


I Think I'm Gonna Like It Here

by kingslionheart



Category: Les Misérables - All Media Types
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-11-29
Updated: 2013-11-29
Packaged: 2018-01-02 22:58:01
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,572
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1062655
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/kingslionheart/pseuds/kingslionheart
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Enjolras knew he shouldn't have asked him, since there would be no point in it. But that night Enjolras went to sleep soundly and alive, because he finally found something to hold on to. He finally found his rock, and that rock was Grantaire.</p>
<p> </p>
<p> </p>
<p>((I may or may not have stolen the title from Supernatural))</p>
            </blockquote>





	I Think I'm Gonna Like It Here

Enjolras was tired.

He was so tired of everything. He was tired of the pressure his parents put on him. He was tired of the other kids at school. He was tired of taking medicine everyday.

He was just done.

He dreaded getting up every morning because he knew, he knew, what was waiting for him. He knew he would come back home with scars and bruises, papers ruined and his bag soaked with whatever type of drink they were serving in the cafeteria. He knew of the homework he'd be doing after school and of the late nights studying just to make his parents proud of him.

Because his parents weren't proud of him. Not anymore. Not since he came out.

But ever since he came out as gay, everything has been worse for him. The bullying had started long before, though, but it was subtle and something he could have coped with; but now, it become more violent, physically and verbally. The teachers frankly don't care enough to help. Most of them don't actually see what's going on anyway. They only see Enjolras, the kid who doesn't talk in class, or who gives the teacher his undivided attention, the perfect example of a successful student. 

But he knew he wouldn't have to worry about that anymore. Not today. Not ever. Because he was leaving, and he doesn't plan on coming back.

He got up and dressed for the morning, not bothering to take th pills that sat in his bathroom cabinet. Normally he would be wearing some expensive brand clothes that his parents usually make him wear but not today, instead he's wearing his favorite red jumper and converse. If I'm gonna die, I may as well wear something I actually want to wear. 

He skipped breakfast like usual and trudged his way to school. As he made his way to his locker, he figured he might as well empty out its contents and take it back home. It wasn't of much value anyway, just a bunch of books. His locker itself, was a disgustingly green color that was rusted on the corners and around the hinges, but it was what's written on there that really stood out.

Words like 'faggot'and what not were usually scribbled on the green metal with black sharpie, and if that wasn't enough, people usually left small notes about why he should kill himself or why he wasn't good enough for anything. But he didn't care anymore. He was used to it all.

School went by agonizingly slow. But at least today wasn't as bad. Sure, he got the usual name call and ripped up homework, but he supposed it could have been worse. The only reason he didn't get anything spilled on his bag today was because he skipped lunch to go visit his favorite teacher, Mr. Combeferre, who seemed to understand him and really try to help him.

As he reached the teacher's room, he knocked gently on the already open door. 

"Uh, Mr. Combeferre?" Enjolras announced quietly, unsure whether to enter or stay where he is. 

"Enjolras," The bespactacled teacher said as he looked up from the papers he was grading. "Come, come in, sit. What seems to be the problem?" By this time, the papers were abandoned and Enjolras sat on the desk across Combeferre's with his hands deep in his pockets.

"Um," Enjolras stumbled, unsure what to say.

"You know you can tell me anything, right?" Combeferre said to the student sitting across from him. "Me being your History teacher shouldn't stop you from saying what you have to say."

"I just..." He looked down, struggling to find his words. He honestly had no idea why he came there. He just felt like he should be there. Like he should at least tell Combeferre goodbye without telling him what he was going to do. But he wanted to. Oh, how he wanted to. He wanted to tell him that his seat would be empty tomorrow. He wanted to tell him that within the month, he'd be six feet underground. But he just couldn't. "Thank you," he finally spurt out. "Just... for being there when I needed it. For listening, and not telling when I asked. It helped a lot. I don't have much friends, as you can tell, and I'm almost positive my parents are ashamed of me so having somebody to talk to, is really, really nice."

"You're welcome." Combeferre said as he out a hand on Enjolras' shoulder. "You're a really good kid, Enjolras, and you don't deserve to feel the way you do." Tears were brimming on Enjolras' eyes as he nodded and looked down.

"Yeah," he squeaked out, scared he might accidentally tell him something he shouldn't. "Yeah, I suppose." His voice was small. Combeferre gave him a friendly hug as Enjolras wiped his nose and pulled away. "I uh, I have to go now. I'm gonna be late for next period." Combeferre nodded and watched as the student walked out of the room, closing the door behind him.

 

School was over before he knew it, and suddenly Enjolras found himself wishing that the day went by slower. He made his way towards his locker, not surprised at all when small papers with scribbled on it fell out. He grabbed all his belongings, placing the small things in his bag, and ended up with 5 textbooks, a binder, and a small reading book. He dodged his way out the schools front door, careful that nothing would fall, and kept his head down so nobody gets the idea of tripping him.

Halfway to his house, he fell flat on his face. Oh god, did someone follow me? Please tell me nobody followed me. He got up to find his belongings scattered all around him.

"Oh my god," A boy with black, wild curls said as he picked up his things. "I am so sorry, I didn't see you." He turned around to revealed his icy blue eyes. 

"No," Enjolras said as he picked up his things beside the boy. "It's fine, really." The boy turned around and was met by his own sky blue orbs. He stuck out his hand.

"Grantaire." The boy, Grantaire, said smiling. Enjolras grabbed his hand and shook it. His hand was rough around his fingertips, but softer near his palm.

"Enjolras." Grantaire smiled at him as he got up off the ground, carrying a few of Enjolras' books.

"You must have a lot of homework then, huh?" Grantaire asked, referring to all the books Enjolras was holding.

"Uh, something like that." He replied, knowing well enough that it wasn't for homework.

"Well, it is high school." Grantaire said jokingly as Enjolras threw his bag around his shoulder. "Do you need help carrying these home? I don't mind. Unless, you mind."

"No," Enjolras cut in, "No, not at all." He gave Grantaire a small smile as they walked in the direction to his house. He noticed that the boy was wearing a green hoodie, torn up jeans (Enjolras couldn't decide whether it's because they were old or if it was just the style) hanging dangerously low around his hips, and some dark green converse that were worn out on the soles.

"So," Grantaire looked at the blonde boy, "What are you? Sophomore, Junior..."

"Senior," Enjolras replied. "You?"

"I'm a senior also, I just moved here though so I'll be starting school tomorrow."

"That explains why I haven't seen you around before." Grantaire nodded in agreement.

"So do you walk every day?" He asked so the conversation doesn't die out. 

"Yeah. I mean, I have a car, but it's a bit too flashy for school." Enjolras told him and Grantaire laughed. He took a moment to enjoy the sound.

"I see. Well, I have a car that's not 'too flashy', I could give you a ride if you'd like." Grantaire offered. Enjolras was surprised at his offer, not that he wasn't thankful. He would say yes if he wasn't going to be gone tomorrow. He would say yes if Grantaire wouldn't have to find out what a loser he is. He wanted to say no. He was going to, but the hopeful look on Grantaire's face told him otherwise.

"Yeah," The words spilled out of his mouth before he was able to process what he was saying. "I would like that."

"Great!" Grantaire said, his face lighting up. Enjolras noticed his house approaching so he turned to Grantaire.

"Well, this is my stop." He took the books from Grantaire's arms. "Thank you, I hope your house isn't too far away."

"Down the block actually, and you're welcome it was nothing." Grantaire rubbed his forearms before patting Enjolras on the shoulder. "Bye, I'll see you tomorrow I suppose. What time would you like me to pick you up?" His hand moved from Enjolras' shoulder and Enjolras found himself missing the warm feeling.

"Anytime I suppose, whenever your ready." Grantaire nodded and they exchanged goodbyes before he walked away. "Wait Grantaire!" His curls bounced as he turned around. "Do you have a phone?" The other boy nodded and gave him his number.

Enjolras knew he shouldn't have asked him, since there would be no point in it. But that night Enjolras went to sleep soundly and alive, because he finally found something to hold on to. He finally found his rock, and that rock was Grantaire.


End file.
